The Farmer's Boy: A Rural Poem Part 3

But groves no farther fenc'd the devious way; A wide-extended heath before him lay, Where on the gra.s.s the stagnant shower had run, And shone a mirror to the rising sun, (Thus doubly seen) lighting a distant wood, Giving new life to each expanding bud; Effacing quick the dewy foot-marks found, Where prowling Reynard trod his nightly round; To shun whose thefts 'twas Giles's evening care, His feather'd victims to suspend in air, High on the bough that nodded o'er his head, And thus each morn to strew the field with dead.

His simple errand done, he homeward hies; Another instantly its place supplies.

The clatt'ring dairy-maid immers'd in steam, Singing and scrubbing midst her milk and cream, Bawls out, "_Go fetch the cows_:..." he hears no more; For pigs, and ducks, and turkies, throng the door, And sitting hens, for constant war prepar'd; A concert strange to that which late he heard.

Straight to the meadow then he whistling goes; With well-known halloo calls his lazy cows: Down the rich pasture heedlessly they graze, Or hear the summon with an idle gaze; For well they know the cow-yard yields no more Its tempting fragrance, nor its wint'ry store.

Reluctance marks their steps, sedate and slow; The right of conquest all the law they know: Subordinate they one by one succeed; And one among them always takes the lead, Is ever foremost, wheresoe'er they stray; Allow'd precedence, undisputed sway; With jealous pride her station is maintain'd, For many a broil that post of honour gain'd.

At home, the yard affords a grateful scene; For Spring makes e'en a miry cow-yard clean.

Thence from its chalky bed behold convey'd The rich manure that drenching winter made, Which pil'd near home, grows green with many a weed, A promis'd nutriment for Autumn's seed.

Forth comes the Maid, and like the morning smiles; The Mistress too, and follow'd close by Giles.

A friendly tripod forms their humble seat, With pails bright scour'd, and delicately sweet.

Where shadowing elms obstruct the morning ray, Begins their work, begins the simple lay; The full-charg'd udder yields its willing streams, While _Mary_ sings some lover's amorous dreams; And crouching Giles beneath a neighbouring tree Tugs o'er his pail, and chants with equal glee; Whose hat with tatter'd brim, of nap so bare, From the cow's side purloins a coat of hair, A mottled ensign of his harmless trade, An unambitious, peaceable c.o.c.kade.

As unambitious too that cheerful aid The mistress yields beside her rosy maid;

[Ill.u.s.tration: maid with a cow]

With joy she views her plenteous reeking store, And bears a brimmer to the dairy door; Her cows dismiss'd, the luscious mead to roam, Till ere again recall them loaded home.

And now the DAIRY claims her choicest care, And half her household find employment there: Slow rolls the churn, its load of clogging cream At once foregoes its quality and name; From knotty particles first floating wide Congealing b.u.t.ter's dash'd from side to side; Streams of new milk thro' flowing coolers stray, And snow-white curd abounds, and wholesome whey.

Due north th' unglazed windows, cold and clear, For warming sunbeams are unwelcome here.

Brisk goes the work beneath each busy hand, And _Giles_ must trudge, whoever gives command; A _Gibeonite_, that serves them all by turns: He drains the pump, from him the f.a.ggot burns; From him the noisy hogs demand their food; While at his heels run many a chirping brood, Or down his path in expectation stand, With equal claims upon his strewing hand.

Thus wastes the morn, till each with pleasure sees The bustle o'er, and press'd the new-made cheese.

Unrivall'd stands thy country CHEESE, O _Giles!_ Whose very name alone engenders smiles; Whose fame abroad by every tongue is spoke, The well-known b.u.t.t of many a flinty joke, That pa.s.s like current coin the nation through; And, ah! experience proves the satire true.

Provision's grave, thou ever craving mart, Dependant, huge Metropolis! where Art Her pouring thousands stows in breathless rooms, Midst pois'nous smokes and steams, and rattling looms; Where Grandeur revels in unbounded stores; Restraint, a slighted stranger at their doors!

[Ill.u.s.tration: man pouring feed into a trough]

Thou, like a whirlpool, drain'st the countries round, Till London market, London price, resound Through every town, round every pa.s.sing load, And dairy produce throngs the eastern road: Delicious veal, and b.u.t.ter, every hour, From Ess.e.x lowlands, and the banks of Stour; And further far, where numerous herds repose, From Orwell's brink, from Weveny, or Ouse.

Hence Suffolk dairy-wives run mad for cream, And leave their milk with nothing but its name; Its name derision and reproach pursue, And strangers tell of "three times skimm'd sky-blue."

To cheese converted, what can be its boast?

What, but the common virtues of a post!

If drought o'ertake it faster than the knife, Most fair it bids for stubborn length of life, And, like the oaken shelf whereon 'tis laid, Mocks the weak efforts of the bending blade; Or in the hog-trough rests in perfect spite, Too big to swallow, and too hard to bite.

Inglorious victory! Ye Cheshire meads, Or Severn's flow'ry dales, where plenty treads, Was your rich milk to suffer wrongs like these, Farewell your pride! farewell renowned cheese!

The skimmer dread, whose ravages alone Thus turn the mead's sweet nectar into stone.

NEGLECTED now the early _daisy_ lies: Nor thou, pale _primrose_, bloom'st the only prize: Advancing SPRING profusely spreads abroad Flow'rs of all hues, with sweetest fragrance stor'd; Where'er she treads, LOVE gladdens every plain, _Delight_ on tiptoe bears her lucid train; Sweet _Hope_ with conscious brow before her flies, Antic.i.p.ating wealth from Summer skies; All Nature feels her renovating sway; The sheep-fed pasture, and the meadow gay; And trees, and shrubs, no longer budding seen, Display the new-grown branch of lighter green; On airy downs the shepherd idling lies, And sees to-morrow in the marbled skies.

Here then, my soul, thy darling theme pursue, For every day was Giles a SHEPHERD too.

Small was his charge: no wilds had they to roam; But bright enclosures circling round their home.

Nor yellow-blossom'd furze, nor stubborn thorn, The heath's rough produce, had their fleeces torn: Yet ever roving, ever seeking thee, Enchanting spirit, dear Variety!

O happy tenants, prisoners of a day!

Releas'd to ease, to pleasure, and to play; Indulg'd through every field by turns to range, And taste them all in one continual change.

For though luxuriant their gra.s.sy food, Sheep long confin'd but loathe the present good; Bleating around the homeward gate they meet, And starve, and pine, with plenty at their feet.

Loos'd from the winding lane, a joyful throng, See, o'er yon pasture how they pour along!

_Giles_ round their boundaries takes his usual stroll; Sees every pa.s.s secur'd, and fences whole; High fences, proud to charm the gazing eye, Where many a nestling first a.s.says to fly; Where blows the woodbine, faintly streak'd with red, And rests on every bough its tender head; Round the young ash its twining branches meet, Or crown the hawthorn with its odours sweet.

Say, ye that know, ye who have felt and seen, _Spring's_ morning smiles, and soul-enliv'ning green, Say, did you give the thrilling transport way?

Did your eye brighten, when young lambs at play Leap'd o'er your path with animated pride, Or gaz'd in merry cl.u.s.ters by your side?

Ye who can smile, to wisdom no disgrace, At the arch meaning of a kitten's face; If spotless innocence, and infant mirth, Excites to praise, or gives reflection birth; In shades like these pursue your fav'rite joy, Midst Nature's revels, sports that never cloy.

A few begin a short but vigorous race, And indolence abash'd soon flies the place; Thus challeng'd forth, see thither one by one, From every side a.s.sembling playmates run; A thousand wily antics mark their stay, A starting crowd, impatient of delay.

Like the fond dove from fearful prison freed, Each seems to say, "Come, let us try our speed;"

Away they scour, impetuous, ardent, strong, The green turf trembling as they bound along; Adown the slope, then up the hillock climb, Where every molehill is a bed of thyme; There panting stop; yet scarcely can refrain; A bird, a leaf, will set them off again: Or, if a gale with strength unusual blow, Scatt'ring the wild-briar roses into snow, Their little limbs increasing efforts try, Like the torn flower the fair a.s.semblage fly.

Ah, fallen rose! sad emblem of their doom; Frail as thyself, they perish while they bloom!

Though unoffending innocence may plead, Though frantic ewes may mourn the savage deed, Their shepherd comes, a messenger of blood, And drives them bleating from their sports and food.

Care loads his brow, and pity wrings his heart, For lo, the murd'ring BUTCHER with his cart Demands the firstlings of his flock to die, And makes a sport of life and liberty!

His gay companions _Giles_ beholds no more; Clos'd are their eyes, their fleeces drench'd in gore; Nor can Compa.s.sion, with her softest notes, Withhold the knife that plunges through their throats.

Down, indignation! hence, ideas foul!

Away the shocking image from my soul!

Let kindlier visitants attend my way, Beneath approaching _Summer's_ fervid ray; Nor thankless glooms obtrude, nor cares annoy, Whilst the sweet theme is _universal joy_.

SUMMER.

ARGUMENT.

_Turnip sowing. Wheat ripening. Sparrows. Insects. The sky-lark. Reaping, &c. Harvest-field, Dairy-maid, &c. Labours of the barn. The gander. Night; a thunder storm. Harvest-home. Reflections, &c._

[Ill.u.s.tration]

SUMMER.

II.

THE FARMER'S life displays in every part A moral lesson to the sensual heart.

Though in the lap of Plenty, thoughtful still, He looks beyond the present good or ill; Nor estimates alone one blessing's worth, From changeful seasons, or capricious earth; But views the future with the present hours, And looks for failures as he looks for show'ers; For casual as for certain want prepares, And round his yard the reeking haystack rears; Or clover, blossom'd lovely to the sight, His team's rich store through many a wint'ry night.

What tho' abundance round his dwelling spreads, Though ever moist his self-improving meads Supply his dairy with a copious flood, And seem to promise unexhausted food; That promise fails, when buried deep in snow, And vegetative juices cease to flow.

For this, his plough turns up the destin'd lands, Whence stormy Winter draws its full demands; For this, the seed minutely small he sows, Whence, sound and sweet, the hardy turnip grows.

But how unlike to APRIL'S closing days!

High climbs the Sun, and darts his pow'rful rays; Whitens the fresh-drawn mould, and pierces through The c.u.mb'rous clods that tumble round the plough.

O'er heaven's bright azure hence with joyful eyes The Farmer sees dark clouds a.s.sembling rise; Borne o'er his fields a heavy torrent falls, And strikes the earth in hasty driving squalls.

"_Right welcome down, ye precious drops_," he cries; But soon, too soon, the partial blessing flies.

"_Boy, bring thy harrows, try how deep the rain Has forc'd its way_." He comes, but comes in vain; Dry dust beneath the bubbling surface lurks, And mocks his pains the more, the more he works: Still midst huge clods he plunges on forlorn, That laugh his harrows and the shower to scorn.

E'en thus the living clod, the stubborn fool, Resists the stormy lectures of the school, Till tried with gentler means, the dunce to please, His head imbibes right reason by degrees; As when from eve till morning's wakeful hour, Light, constant rain, evinces secret pow'r, And ere the day resume its wonted smiles, Presents a cheerful easy task for _Giles_.

Down with a touch the mellow'd soil is laid, And yon tall crop next claims his timely aid; Thither well pleas'd he hies, a.s.sur'd to find Wild trackless haunts, and objects to his mind.

Shot up from broad rank blades that droop below, The nodding WHEAT-EAR forms a graceful bow, With milky kernels starting full, weigh'd down, Ere yet the sun hath ting'd its head with brown; Whilst thousands in a flock, for ever gay, Loud chirping _sparrows_ welcome on the day, And from the mazes of the leafy thorn Drop one by one upon the bending corn.

Giles with a pole a.s.sails their close retreats, And round the gra.s.s-grown dewy border beats, On either side completely overspread, Here branches bend, there corn o'ertops his head.

Green covert, hail! for through the varying year No hours so sweet, no scene to him so dear.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Here _Wisdom's_ placid eye delighted sees His frequent intervals of lonely ease, And with one ray his infant soul inspires, Just kindling there her never-dying fires, Whence solitude derives peculiar charms, And heaven-directed thought his bosom warms.

Just where the parting bough's light shadows play, Scarce in the shade, nor in the scorching day, Stretch'd on the turf he lies, a peopled bed, Where swarming insects creep around his head.

The small dust-colour'd beetle climbs with pain O'er the smooth plantain-leaf, a s.p.a.cious plain!

Thence higher still, by countless steps convey'd, He gains the summit of a shiv'ring blade, And flirts his filmy wings, and looks around, Exulting in his distance from the ground.